Dancing in the Light by Shirley Maclaine Read Free Book Online

never seen anything like that since. Then, with his eyes still open, he became almost transfigured—with an expression of such beauty it took my breath away. And he said, Oh, darling, it is so beautiful, it is so, so beautiful.’ Then he closed his eyes and died.”
    Mother had a faraway expression on her face asshe remembered, lost in vividly recalling the emotions of a major event in her life. Then she came back to the present and looked slightly confused for a moment. “Do you suppose,” she asked, “that I was watching my father’s soul leave his body and what he described as ‘so beautiful’ was the same thing that Peter Sellers and those other people in your book also describe? Was he seeing that white light that the others said they saw? Why else would he say it was so beautiful? Does that mean death is nothing to be afraid of and old people like your daddy and me should not be so anxious about dying?”
    My breath caught in my throat. What on earth do you say to the woman who gave you life, when her honesty about death is so blazingly open-minded? Here was my darling, self-sacrificing touchstone, a frail eighty years old, breaking a bone every month or so, knowing that her days were numbered, facing sleep every night wondering if she would wake up in the morning, questioning me about what to expect and realizing, and acknowledging, that I had touched on another dimensional reality which might possibly mean there would be no such thing as her death. I had not anticipated such wondrously unlimited courage. I couldn’t speak.
    Daddy came to my rescue, realizing what he was doing.
    “Okay, Monkey,” he said strongly, “now I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone, not even your mother.”
    I sat back in my chair. Both of my parents unceasingly surprised me.
    “Remember,” he began, “when I had my car accident about twelve, fifteen years ago?”
    “Yes,” I answered.
    “Well,” he continued, “I died that night. I literally died. I was dead to the doctors in the ambulance that came. I saw the police say another drunk driver had bitten the dust. But I didn’t see them from inside my body. I was outside of my body. I wasabove my body watching the whole scene. I saw them all scrambling and milling around, but I knew I was not dead. I felt myself rise out of my body and begin to soar. I saw my body below me. I remember the conversations I heard. Then I saw the most beautiful white light above me. I can’t describe how that light felt. It was warm and loving and real. It was real and it was God or something. I wanted to go to that light more than anything I’ve ever wanted. I was prepared to continue toward the light—and then I thought about your mother and I thought about Warren. I knew they needed me. I knew I couldn’t leave. I knew I had to come back into my body. I didn’t think about you, Monkey, because I knew you didn’t need me. But they did. And as soon as I felt any doubt about leaving, I felt myself come back into my body. Suddenly my body felt heavy and broken and painful. I don’t know how long I was gone, but when I opened my eyes, all the folks around me were surprised. So when you tell me about out-of-body experiences and Peter Sellers and the soul being separate from the body, I know just what you’re talking about because it happened to me.”
    When he finished, Mother was looking at him as though she had just met him for the first time and understood everything he was saying.
    “Yes,” she said, “I can understand what you’re saying. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
    “Because,” said Daddy as he filled up his pipe, “I didn’t want you or anyone else to think I was crazy. If Shirley hadn’t written this, I would still have it locked inside of me. And something else, Scotch [his nickname for Mother was related, I think, more to her heritage than her attitude toward his booze habits], whenever you people get upset with me because I’m sleeping so